


The Map

by Aly_H



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Antiva, Antivan Crows, Antivan Setting, Character Backgrounds, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dalish Lore, Dalish Wanderer, Dwarven Carta (Dragon Age), Gen, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, head canons, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 12:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16854385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aly_H/pseuds/Aly_H
Summary: Around 9:33 in Treviso, Antiva a Crow assassin by the name of Laurencio Altimari 'discovers' a treasure map during a job for the Crows. Bringing the map to a 'friend' in the Carta he suggests that it may be a way to the comfort that wealth can bring people in either of their organizations. One slight problem. Neither of them can read the map, but Cadash might know a guy who CAN.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set around 9:33-34 Dragon in Treviso, Antiva.

“C’mon, I _know_ you, you’ve always got someone up your sleeve that knows about this sort of thing,” he tapped the map on the table between their mugs. At least he thought it was a map. Ancient, a little weathered and written in what he was pretty sure was elvish.

The twenty-year old was a Crow – he wasn’t doing much to disguise that fact though he also wasn’t currently flaunting it either. The knives he wore drew far less attention than the woman’s sword and shield combination did.

His skin was dark even by Antivan standards and his hair more wiry, tamed into a slightly fluffy pony tail at the moment.

Laurencio Altimari leaned forward, “C’mon, 70-30 split? If the treasures big enough you could retire.”

The dwarf’s flat expression gave way to a bit of a smirk. Although with her skull like tattoos set against the paleness of her skin _any_ expression she made was rather intimidating. “40-40-20. We need a third, unless you can suddenly read that.”

He winced – he _planned_ on ‘politely’ asking someone to translate it for him. Without Cadash knowing. The dwarf had her own meticulous code of honor despite being a thug for the Carta. If she was getting work from someone she paid for it – he was a little keener on being cheap.

“I get forty,” he confirmed.

That got a short laugh – harsh sounding but he’d known Cadash long enough to know if the laugh _sounded_ genuine it wasn’t. And you were about to get punched in the face. “Of course, the idiot doesn’t mind being cheated just give him first pick of anything elven.”

Once done she threw back the rest of her drink and stood, “Come. We should talk to our third.”

He left his drink unfinished – better to _not_ keep her waiting.

Despite having called the sharp edged dwarf with the dented sense of honor a ‘friend’ for a few years now he wasn’t sure as to her first name. It had always just been _Cadash_. And he only learned that from the sneering order that another Carta dwarf had given.

Stepping out of the warm press of the crowded building and into the cooling night air he had to stop and take a breath. It took him a moment to spot the black haired woman again, shield slung over her back as she navigated the shifting crowds. He’d never say it aloud but she always made him think of a very grumpy turtle.

Antivan summers were stifling hot during the day, and so the markets came alive at this time – just after sunset but before people had retired to settle in for their evening meals or however they spent their nights.

He trotted to catch up with her, trailing her to one of the open plazas in silence.

Laurencio nearly tripped over her as she stopped suddenly – a hand on her hip and an annoyed huff issuing from her.

Tracking her eyes he found the source of her irritation.

Two Templars were looking less than pleased, their silver armor glowing in the lights of the squares, as they talked to a fortune teller that Laurencio had passed by on a number of occasions. Not that he’d paid much mind to the tattooed elf – his type were usually a little foolish but not threats and he doubted a spy would have been doing a reading for themselves.

The elf had his head tilted to the side listening to them before he moved his hand, something glittering in his fingers then vanishing as he moved them another way.

The older Templar lifted a hand to touch his temple and nodded, and both walked away.

“You sure that wasn’t really magic?” the younger of the two couldn’t have been much more than a recruit. When he glanced back the elf waved at him, friendly smile and all.

“Not a mage, just a charlatan. Let the Guard chase him off,” the older one growled. “Waste of time. Who would mistake _that_ knife-ear as an apostate?”

As they passed by Cadash shook her head, continuing her path to the fool that the Templars had had their attention on. Wait _that_ couldn’t be who Cadash had suggested they bring in…right?

“Getting yourself into trouble again, Lavellan?”

“What? Of course not,” the elf grinned, “But can you believe it? They thought I was a _mage_ of all things.”

Cadash raised a brow slightly, “We want to talk about a job. I think you’ll be interested.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I’ll leave you two to figure out that map, I have Carta business to tend to,” Michaela stood, heading out of the small room that the elf had taken them to talk. “Altimari – you break him and I’ll break _you_ , understand?”

“Yes’m,” he smiled faintly around a mouthful of the chowder that the elf had served them. He didn’t recognize the recipe but whatever it was, it was good. And Lavellan had given him a second bowl when he’d finished the first, would have been rude to turn it down, right?

“Boys,” Cadash muttered, though her tone was fond beneath the gruffness – she had probably a decade on either of them – “Solroka, look after yourself, got it? No more tugging Templar tails. I told you – only one going to kill you is _me_.”

Lavellan laughed, waving her off, “You keep saying that, _lethallin_. You never do.”

“Hmph, just make yourself useful, before I decide you really do got clouds for brains,” she scowled and headed out the door.

The brown haired elf just laughed softly and went back to peering over the map, the smile fading in concentration his fingers playing with the only of the pendants he’d left on his neck when he’d come into the apartment. His jacket had been set aside and most the bracelets and necklaces had been set in a pouch on one of the tables. The ones that remained were the simplest but he was fairly certain they were the ones with protective charms pressed into them.

“You can really read that?” he asked – most elves he’d known couldn’t _read_ , well the ones outside the Crows. The Crows made sure that their _compradi_ were taught the skill, but outside that he hadn’t met many. And none of the ones he’d met had read or wrote in that flowing script that _had_ to be elvish.

“Some,” he murmured, gold eyes still tracing over the map, “It’s an older dialect but close enough to what I speak. Pre-Dales but after Tevinter had already destroyed Arlathan.”

“…what’d you do to get exiled?”

“Asking for my life story before you even get my name?” he smirked, finally looking up. “No wonder you looked surprised when I called Michaela by her first name.”

“…sorry,” he blushed, caught by the teasing golden eyes.

“Mmh, you’re pretty enough to get away with it,” he smiled. “Haleir. And you’ll need me to reach the treasure described.”

“Oh?” he narrowed his eyes – he wouldn’t cross Cadash by killing her elf friend but the thought _had_ occurred. He didn’t like that the cheerful elf with a nonsensical career had seen that. Cadash was paranoid from a lifetime in the Carta, her suspecting made sense. A vagabond fortune teller who did sleight of hand and had a far too cheery attitude shouldn’t have…right?

“The paths are open only to those that walk the _Vir El’las’in_. I doubt we’ll find any priests to guide us through but I might be able to bluff our way through those tests.”


End file.
